


To Hold The Hands I Love

by elaine



Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, Episode Related, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-01-06
Updated: 1999-01-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 20:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: Ray doesn't like the idea of spending Chrismas alone, but he never expected to find a Mountie on his doorstep.





	To Hold The Hands I Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
To  
Hold the Hands I Love

# To Hold the Hands I Love

Ray Kowalski stared down at the present in his hands and decided that Christmas sucked. Of course Dewey had to give him something he'd already got... Oh well. He shrugged slightly. It fit in perfectly with everything else that had happened in the last few days. He looked up into a pair of blue eyes and a long, slightly angular face with a hopeful expression, and held the blaster out to Turnbull. 

"Here, you have it."   
  
Turnbull's face lit up as he took the toy, and Kowalski watched, amused, as the Mountie capered around the Bull Pen spraying its inhabitants indiscriminately with fake gunfire. Everyone seemed to be having fun... except for Fraser, still clutching that picture frame and looking lost. The smile slid off his face. He knew only too well how that felt, but there was nothing he could do about it. Fraser didn't exactly give much away. He wandered in the Mountie's direction.  
  
"Hey, Fraser, you wanna go somewhere and maybe get something to eat?"  
  
Fraser pulled his attention away from the picture for a moment. "Thank you Ray. That would be... very pleasant."  
  
Kowalski grinned. "Well, it's Christmas Eve isn't it?" He flung an arm around his friend's shoulder as they walked out.

*

The complete lack of sound woke him. In this city, there was almost never a time when everything was silent, but now it was. Kowalski opened his eyes reluctantly. It was pitch dark, and through the window, he could see big fat flakes of snow drifting down, muffling everything. Pure magic. 

  
"Merry Christmas, Ray." Warm lips brushed against his cheek.  
  
Kowalski turned to look up into dimly seen blue eyes. "I guess."   
  
How the hell had he gotten into this? A part of him didn't want to acknowledge the real reason. If Stella hadn't blown him off like that, in front of everybody... But the truth was, it was sheer loneliness. What kind of a man spent Christmas Eve alone? Or Christmas Day. Well, Fraser, for one, but, much as he liked his partner, he didn't want to end up like that.  
  
Still it had begun to look like that was exactly what was going to happen until, arriving home after that depressing dinner, he'd found another Mountie on his doorstep. Blushing furiously and quite speechless, Turnbull had held out a gift wrapped parcel to him. He'd had to invite the other man inside after that, and offer him a beer.  
  
Of course he'd known Turnbull had a crush on him. It had been embarrassingly obvious for months. He'd been surprised to realise that the notion didn't offend him. Instead, it had intrigued him, though he'd had no intention of doing anything about it. He'd always thought of himself as straight, but then, he'd been in love with Stella since he was twelve, so why should he ever have looked anywhere else?   
  
It had been Fraser who'd opened his eyes in that area. He'd heard the talk about Fraser and Vecchio, but he hadn't really believed it, especially after he'd met the Mountie. Fraser was such a straight arrow, how could he possibly swing that way? Then, gradually, he'd begun to realise that it was true. It wasn't anything Fraser said. In fact Fraser never mentioned Vecchio at all, to the point where Kowalski had started wondering why.   
  
In the end it hadn't been hard to work out, especially as his new friend had withdrawn more and more into himself. Talking about Vecchio hurt Fraser too much. Kowalski had tried talking about Vecchio himself, and had been firmly diverted onto another subject. The next time he'd tried, the same thing had happened. After that, he'd stopped trying.   
  
And if Fraser, who was as good a man as he'd ever met, could be that way, then how could he think less of him, or anyone else, for it? So when he'd started to realise that Turnbull was tagging along with him and Fraser for a reason... well, he'd just felt sorry for the guy. He knew all too well what it felt like to want something he couldn't have.  
  
But last night it had just seemed like more than he could bear to spend the night alone. He'd had a few too many beers by then. Turnbull had only had one, but that had been all it had taken. Somehow, they'd ended up sitting far too close on the couch, and then... it surprised him that he didn't feel bad about it. At least, that he didn't feel bad about doing it with a guy.   
  
It didn't seem like such a good idea now, though. He didn't want Turnbull getting expectations, and who knew what was going on in that Mountie head? It was too late to go back, but if they were going to do this again, it would be strictly for fun and sex, and that was it. No mushy stuff. But for now... he accepted Turnbull's kiss on the mouth, parting his lips acquiescently. Turnbull was a good kisser, and a surprisingly good lover, considering what a dufus he was.  
  
After a while, he rolled onto his back, pulling Turnbull on top of him. It felt good to hold a warm body in his arms, to kiss and be kissed. To have some company on a cold winter's night. A gentle sucking on his nipple sent a wave of lust straight to his groin and Kowalski shivered. Above him, Turnbull moaned softly, sliding his cock over Kowalski's and he pushed up against the Canadian, pressing their groins together. God, it felt good.  
  
"Ray?" Turnbull's voice was breathless.  
  
Kowalski arched his back slightly. "Yeah? Do it, willya?"  
  
Turnbull began to drive against him fiercely and Kowalski responded instinctively. He could lose himself in this. Kowalski flung back his head and plunged recklessly against the solid body above him. Afterwards they lay in silence and watched the snow fall, silent and weightless. He'd never be able to sleep now, and it was only three a.m.   
  
Turnbull's hand drifted lightly across his chest. "Would you like to go for a walk, Ray?"  
  
"Are you crazy? It's snowing!"  
  
He felt Turnbull shrug slightly. "Haven't you ever been for a walk in the snow?"  
  
"Only when I couldn't avoid it. It's three a.m., for chrissakes." The Mountie was nuts.  
  
Turnbull didn't answer, and after a while Kowalski sighed. "All right! Just a short walk. Five minutes, OK?"

*

He was never quite sure, afterwards, how they ended up driving to Grant Park and walking under the trees in the darkness. The snow was just starting to settle. If it kept up, Chicago would have a white Christmas after all.  
  
"There, now. Isn't this lovely?" Turnbull was watching at him expectantly.  
  
It was, actually, but he wasn't going to admit it. "My hands are cold."  
  
"Well, I told you to wear gloves, Ray." Turnbull stopped and took hold of his hands, blowing on the fingers, then chafing them briskly. "Is that better?"  
  
"A bit."  
  
Turnbull smiled at him and began to unbutton the thick woollen jacket he was wearing. Then he reached for Kowalski.  
  
Kowalski dodged away. "What are you doing?"   
  
"Helping you, Ray."  
  
Grumbling, Kowalski submitted to having his coat unbuttoned. Then his hands were firmly placed against Turnbull's chest and Turnbull's arms slid around him, under the coat, pulling him close.  
  
"What is this?" He was mumbling into Turnbull's shoulder.  
  
"Well, Ray, we're sharing body heat." Turnbull's lips seemed to brush against his hair. "It's very effective don't you think?"  
  
"Aren't we supposed to take off all our clothes?"  
  
"Not under these circumstances, Ray. Besides, I'm sure there's a civic ordinance prohibiting it."  
  
"I guess." He lifted his head, and, as he'd expected, Turnbull kissed him. His feet were going numb. "I think we'd better keep walking. Or go back to the car."  
  
The last sentence was ignored. "All right, Ray." Turnbull released him and stripped off his left glove. "Here, put this on. And button up."  
  
Kowalski pulled it on obediently. "One glove ain't gonna do much good."  
  
"Ah. That's what you think." Turnbull took firm hold of Kowalski's right hand with his left, and pushed them both into the depths of his pocket. "See?"  
  
It was, in a strange kind of way, romantic to be walking through Grant Park in the early hours of Christmas morning while the snow drifted around them. The trees held a thin canopy of snow, everything was clean and new, and the hush that always came with a snowfall only added to the magical aura. They were holding hands.   
  
Kowalski wasn't sure he wanted to think too much about that. It was only for warmth after all, but it reminded him of the times he'd brought Stella here on warm summer evenings, before it all fell apart. On a night like this, even those memories lost their power to hurt him.  
  
He realised that they'd been walking in a large circle, and were almost back to the car. Kowalski stopped and half turned to face the other man.   
  
"This was a good idea. Thanks." Turnbull's face lit up with a big smile. They kissed again. "Now can we go home and thaw out?"

*

Before they'd left, Kowalski had turned the radiator way up, and the apartment was beautifully warm. Without having to think about it, they drifted into the bedroom, shedding their clothes as they went. He pulled Turnbull down into the nest of blankets, and since they didn't need to cover up, he left the light on as they began to make love.  
  
Their bodies already knew what to do, and soon they were tangled together, the heat rising between them as desire sky-rocketed. Kowalski lowered his lips to suck on a burning, sweat-salty nipple and ran his fingers down the inside of one blocky, ice-skater's thigh. Turnbull groaned, his cock rising to brand Kowalski's belly with its heat.  
  
His own cock ached ferociously and he guided Turnbull's hand to it. A breathless gasp, and it was taken in a firm grip and pumped with a deliberate intensity. For a moment he lost all sense of where he was, his hips rising and falling in a fierce rhythm, and then he gained control of himself again. Sliding down Turnbull's body, he took the heated shaft between his fingers, stroking firmly while glazed blue eyes watched him.   
  
Turnbull's cock was a thing of beauty, thick, solid, roped with veins and flushed wetly at the tip. His tongue snaked out to caress it softly. Turnbull shuddered and arched his back, his eyes closing. He lavished the proud flesh with kisses and caresses of his tongue and fingers until Turnbull seemed about to lose control, then parted the muscular thighs and slid between them.  
  
They lay chest to chest for long moments while they both caught their breath. Held tightly against Turnbull's body, he couldn't reach his lover's mouth, so Kowalski dropped hot little kisses over his chest instead. Turnbull's hands massaged his back and down over his butt, encouraging him to move with tiny thrusts of his own hips. Their cocks slid easily, slick with their own juices. They thrust against each other, groaning with mingled passion and pleasure until the climax took them.

*

The sky was lightening now, and still he couldn't sleep. It had been a big mistake to ask Turnbull to stay, but it was too late for regrets now. The Canadian lay sleeping in his arms, his weight an unwelcome reminder of what had happened between them. It would be OK if it was just a sex thing. Fuck buddies, that's what it was called, wasn't it? But it was already starting to get complicated and he wasn't sure that he liked that.   
  
It had started snowing again. He lay watching the snow drift down and thought about walking in the snow, holding hands. How long since he'd done that? Even when he and Stella were still together, they hadn't done it for a long time. If only he could go back in time, take her for more walks in the snow...  
  
Turnbull stirred in his arms and subsided again, his hand resting in the centre of Kowalski's chest. Absentmindedly, Kowalski twined his fingers with the Canadian's. Holding hands. It was too late for Stella, he finally admitted to himself. But maybe... there was someone who loved him. Someone he might be able to love in return. It wouldn't be hard to love Turnbull. Maybe it could work... just maybe... He smiled a little and closed his eyes.   
  
back


End file.
